


Winter Winds (the time we were given will be left for the world)

by altoinkblots



Series: Hugs Heal the Wounds Tears Leave Behind [6]
Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexual Male Character, Bisexual Female Character, F/F, Family Fluff, Fluff, Gen, i don't know if this could be considered mutual pining yet, slowburn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 18:35:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23851678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/altoinkblots/pseuds/altoinkblots
Summary: Ed shouldn't have let slip his birthday. He doesn't even like birthdays all that much, and yet here he is, celebrating with Al and Winry. Separately, of course.
Relationships: Alphonse Elric & Edward Elric, Alphonse Elric & Winry Rockbell, Edward Elric/Winry Rockbell
Series: Hugs Heal the Wounds Tears Leave Behind [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1680922
Comments: 26
Kudos: 42





	1. let the memories be good for those who stay

**Author's Note:**

> All titles for this fic are taken from Mumford and Sons' "Winter Winds" -- it popped up while I was writing and I had an epiphany. So we're doing semi-consistent chapter titles!!! Yay!!!
> 
> Also, all of the books listed here are actual books that I or someone I know has read and enjoyed, so take it as a giant book recommendation. Also, the worldbuilding for this au is weird and wonky, so feel free to ignore. I am literally making this up as I go. Help. Anyway, enjoy!!
> 
> (this one also got long. oops)

It started as a way to keep seeing each other, now that Ed was student teaching three days out of the week along with taking classes, and Winry wasn’t taking classes on campus anymore. After their respective days at work they’d meet at her apartment and basically chill in the living room. Sometimes Ed would borrow Ling’s car and they’d go somewhere else if neither of them were too tired. 

Today was no different. Winry had the door open and ready for him well after six as he plopped down on her couch. “Rough day?” she asked.

Ed dropped his messenger bag to his side, his right leg hanging off of the couch. “No, it was fine. Except for the fact that the department meeting went on for longer, so I was nearly late to my first class, and I’m still not done grading homework. And my master teacher isn’t mentoring.” He sat up a little bit. “I honestly think he’s going to retire at the end of the year, and he’s very checked out. It’s a good thing I only have a week and a half left with him, then they’re moving me to a middle school.” He shuddered. He would much rather work in a high school.

Winry moved his legs and sat down, bringing them on top of her lap. “That sucks,” she said, handing him a mug. “Here, I had some tea ready for you.”

Ed grinned at her. “You’re a godsend, Winry.”

She smiled back. “Well, you sound like you need it.”

Ed brought the mug to his lips and took a small sip. It burnt a little, but it was good. Really good. “What kind is it?”

“Ginger. Kathleen made some earlier, and I managed to steal some for you.”

Ed narrowed his eyes. “What about you? Did you get some?”

Winry waved her hand around, her other one resting on his ankle. “By the time I got back, I was too tired to even think about that. I think I got yours then immediately passed out.” She turned to him, shifting so her legs were folded under her. “I think I’m genuinely starting to hate people. And possibly driving. You know they have me as a glorified taxi driver, right?”

Ed nodded. This was far from the first time Winry had mentioned this. He sipped some more of the tea. 

“The more time I spend there at the dealership, the more I want to get my hands  _ into _ the cars.” She closed her eyes and leaned back. “I can almost taste them back there, working on the engines, getting grease all over their hand, fixing coolant issues… Ed, if I don’t get my hands on a car, I am going to scream.”

Ed took another sip of the tea. “So you’ve figured out what you want to do?”

“What does it look like? Of course I have. Being a mechanic sings to me in a way nothing else did.”

“It’s a good thing you’re a gearhead, then.”

Winry smacked his leg. “You’re one to talk, chemistry freak.”

Ed stuck his tongue out at her. Winry rolled her eyes. 

Ed set the mug of tea on Winry’s coffee table and pulled a binder and blue pen out of his bag. Winry scrunched her face together. “You’re grading them by hand?”

“Yeah.”

“Won’t your hand cramp up?”

Ed nodded. “Yeah, when I get my own classroom I’m having those kids turn everything in electronically. Unfortunately, Mr. Old-Fashioned has been doing everything by hand for almost a hundred years, and won’t even let a computer in the classroom for himself.”

“Ouch. So you’re writing by hand?”

Ed nodded. “Sometimes I get the kids to do work on the board just to save my hand from cramping up.”

Winry grimaced. “That’s unfortunate.”

Ed pulled out the first sheet of homework, the pencil well-smudged. He sighed, and looked up at Winry. “Sorry for interrupting your rant, by the way.”

“Don’t worry about it, you’ve heard it a thousand times by now.”

“Doesn’t mean you have to keep quiet. Besides, I can grade these smudged papers and listen to you at the same time, if I’ve heard it a thousand times.”

Winry smiled at him. Warmth flooded his chest, expanding out everywhere. In the weeks since All Souls Feast weekend at his family’s house, there had been a fragile balance between the two.  _ Something _ had happened there between them, but ever since they had gotten back it had been weird. Like they were trying to pick up exactly where they had left off before All Souls.

_ We’ve both changed _ , he thought as Winry started complaining about the people she drove for the dealership. Her job was a lot of things -- it was mostly a placeholder until she could get into trade school, so she did a lot of menial tasks -- but lately she had been driving clients to and from their homes or work while their cars were in the shop.

Ed turned his eyes down to his binder of homework, marking things with his blue pen. He nodded at all the right spots, commented when she inhaled, to show that he was paying attention.

He wished he could pay a little more attention to her. This was their thing, being in each other’s presence after work, and he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Unfortunately, because he wouldn’t miss this precious time with Winry, it meant that he brought homework with him more often than not; both the homework he was grading and his own for classes he was still finishing up. 

Whenever he could, he would glance up at her as she talked with her entire being; her hands flying around her, her mouth moving a mile a minute, and her blue eyes lit up with a fire he hoped would never dim. 

She leaned back against the armrest at the opposite end of the couch, Ed’s feet still in her lap. “Anyway. Let me know when you can take a break, because Paninya brought  _ tamales _ over, and I successfully hid them from roommates.”

Ed grinned. “You sure you want to share with me?”

“Why would I not?”

Ed looked down at the homework, then up at Winry, then down at the homework, then up at Winry. “Food,” he said. “Always food.”

Winry pushed his feet out of her lap and stood up. Ed followed suit, and perched himself on the counter. Winry rolled her eyes and brought a saran-wrapped plate out of the fridge, unwrapped the plate and put it into the microwave. Ed rested his head on his hands, watching her move around. About a minute later, him and Winry were sharing a plate of moderately hot  _ tamales. _ “These are good,” he said after taking a bite.

Winry covered her mouth with her hand. “Paninya can’t cook much, but she can do these.” She gave a pointed look to Ed. “Trust me. If she offers you anything other than  _ tamales, _ turn her down. It’s not worth it.”

Ed took another bite. “Duly noted.”

Winry sat down on the barstool next to him. “So. Edward,” she said, unwrapping a  _ tamale. _ “When’s your birthday?”

Ed almost choked. “What?”

“Oh, nothing. I’ve just been texting Izumi and Al ever since All Souls Feast, and they kept mentioning birthday plans.”

Ed shook his head. “Damn it.”

Winy poked him in the arm. “Come on, tell me. Or I can ask Izumi or Al when it is, completely bypassing you…”

Ed mumbled nonsense words and curses under his breath. “Fine. It’s on the twenty-first.”

“Of this month?”

“Yeah.”

“Why didn’t you tell me!” she exclaimed. 

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it.”

Winry rolled her eyes. “That’s a lame excuse.”

“Well I don’t know yours, either.”

“May seventeenth.”

Ed sighed. She had caved too easily. “Anyway, I don’t want you guys to make a big deal out of it. As far as I’m concerned, it’s just another rotation of the earth as it makes its way around the sun.”

“Ed. It’s next week. Actually, it’s…” she counted off on her fingers, “eleven days away, which falls into the category of next week. And it’s a Friday, we have to do something.”

Ed turned to Winry and grasped her excited hands in his to get them to stop moving. “First of all, no. Second of all, I don’t like that much attention on me.” Winry snorted. “Third, we’ll both be exhausted; and if what you say is true that Izumi and Al have plans, I’m already booked that day.”

“Fine. We’ll do something the next day.” She looked directly into his eyes, exasperated. “Oh, come on. It can’t be the day your father left, you said that was in the fall. It also wasn’t the day you and Al got adopted. As far as I know, there’s no reason you shouldn’t at least  _ like _ your birthday.”

Ed leaned in closer to Winry, still holding her hands. She leaned in as well, so their noses were almost touching. “You’re right,” he said, “there’s no reason I shouldn’t like my birthday. I honestly just don’t see the point.”

Winry narrowed her eyes. “Fine. I’ll drop it. For now. But I expect you to take me out somewhere on my birthday and blow me away.”

“Okay, I’ll do that.”

Winry’s cheeks glowed pink. She had been doing that a lot more, lately. Ed shrugged it off. 

“Well, if you  _ insist _ on doing something for my birthday, what were you thinking of?”

Winry hummed. “I don’t know yet,” she said, “but I’ll think of something.” She smiled. “Don’t worry, it won’t be over the top. It’ll be nice. Chill.”

“Just for the two of us?”

She nodded. “Just the two of us.”

* * *

Over the next eleven days, Ed almost forgot about the conversation with Winry about his birthday. Almost.

After realizing that his mentor wasn’t going to mentor, he had started shadowing other teachers at Central Valley High School, and not just in the chemistry department. While he mostly stuck with the chemistry department, even getting permission to teach a lesson in some of their classes, he had shadowed the art teacher, Maria Ross, a lot more. He was still teaching Mr. I’m-Almost-Retired-So-I’m-Done-Teaching’s classes, but when he could he made his way to Ms. Ross’ classroom. 

“Oh, hi Edward!” she said when he walked in. They both had the same lunch hour, which was nice, and he usually ate in here anyway. Both the teacher’s lounge and chemistry offices still felt off to him. “How’s Harold doing?”

Ed sat down at one of the tables and pulled out his lunch. “I honestly shouldn’t complain about my master teacher, but he’s terrible.”

Maria snorted. She was washing paint brushes in the sink, a mixture of soap, water, and paint all over her hands. “I swear, these kids like making my life a living hell,” she muttered. “They should know how to wash paint brushes by now.”

“Sorry,” said Ed.

Maria turned to him, an eyebrow raised. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I used to be one of those kids. I only took art because it was required to graduate.”

She sighed. “Honestly, I shouldn’t have expected anything else. Anyway, this is your last week here, right?”

Ed took a bite of his sandwich. “No, next week is.”

“And you’re going to…?”

“West Bridge Middle. It’ll be less of a chemistry focus and more of a general science. I think Tim Marcoh is going to be my mentor over there.”

Maria nodded. “He has more of a focus on biology, I think.”

“That’s what I was told.”

She set the paintbrushes on a paper towel to dry and came over to sit across the table from him. “I’ve never worked there, but my counterpart, Denny Brosh, has said good things. Apparently the kids love him, and he’s a good teacher.”

“That’s good to hear. Honestly, I’d prefer working at a high school than a middle school, but as long as I get to teach I really don't care.”

Maria grinned. “That’s exactly how I felt. I’m just happy to be working with kids, but I will say that writing letters of recommendation sucks.”

Ed took another bite. “Really?”

“They’re not that bad, but as an art teacher that teaches freshmen through seniors, I get swamped. I’m not as bad as the music department though; they see their kids every day for four years.”

Ed grinned. “Doesn’t sound so bad to me.”

“It’s not, and I definitely have kids like that, but when they start applying for college it gets to be a lot.”

“It’s just something to look forward to.”

Maria grinned. “Oh, this brings back memories of my own student teaching. I was so ready to get my own classroom, and when I did I just froze.”

Ed snorted. “Why do you think I’ve been bouncing around between teachers?”

“Because Harold isn’t doing his job?”

“That too, but it’s so I can see different teaching styles so I don’t feel completely out of my depth when I get my own.”

Maria nodded. “That makes sense.” She looked around. “And you didn’t hear this from me, but a lot of the teachers here want you to take Harold’s spot once he retires. It’d be nice to get some fresh blood in here.” She narrowed her eyes. “How old are you, anyway? I feel like I’ve asked you, but I forgot.”

“Twenty-one. Today’s my birthday.”

“Damn that’s young. Parents are not going to like that. Happy birthday, by the way.”

“Thanks.” He finished his sandwich, his stomach twisting itself into knots. Tonight, Al was taking him out -- courtesy of Izumi and Sig who weren’t able to make it up -- and tomorrow Winry had something planned. “Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

Ed bit his lip, trying to figure out how to word what he was about to say. “A friend of mine has something planned for tomorrow, just the two of us, but I have no idea what she’s planned nor what’s going on.”

Maria raised an eyebrow. “Oh? She?”

Ed gave her a flat look. “It’s not like that.”

“Your blush says otherwise.”

“I’m not --!”

Maria laughed. “I’m joking. But you are blushing. Go on.”

Ed glared at her. “Anyway, I’m a little nervous. Mostly because I don’t like people making a big deal out of it.”

“That’s not why you’re nervous.”

“Hey!”

She held up her hands defensively, grinning. “Hey, I’m just commenting on what I’m seeing. But you do like her, right?”

“Of course, she’s like my best friend.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Ed narrowed his eyes even more. “Fine, I’ll stop egging you on. Continue.”

“As I was saying, I’m a little nervous.”

Maria hummed. “I don’t know what to tell you, Edward. If she’s your best friend then you just have to trust that she knows you well enough not to do something crazy.”

Ed sighed. “Yeah, you’re right.” He looked at the clock on the wall. “I should probably get going, Mr. Cook wants to give me notes on my teaching.”

“Well, have fun, and if I don’t see you next week, have a great time at West Bridge.”

Ed packed up what remained of his lunch. “Thanks, have fun here with the ruined paint brushes.”

“Curse you, Edward. I might have to get new ones by the end of the year!”

Ed laughed. “See you.”

Maria waved at him. “I’ll put a good word in for you, once Harold retires.”

“Thanks.”

Ed left the art room and made the long trek across the school to Mr. Cook’s office. Very few students were out, but one that recognized him waved. He waved back and climbed the stairs and walked into the offices for the chemistry department. Three people were in there. One of them was a student, talking to a middle-aged woman ( _ Mrs. Emily Ballard, _ Ed thought), and the other teacher was Harold Cook. A short, slouching, old man with wisps of hair and liver spots all over his bald head. His skin sagged and, like every time he saw him, Ed wondered why he was still teaching. He must have been at least seventy. He sat down in the chair normally reserved for students by Mr. Cook’s desk.

The old man huffed. “You’re right on time, Elric. That means you’re late.”

“Sorry, Mr. Cook,” he said. “I was eating luch.”

Mr. Cook turned slowly in his chair to face Ed. “And how have you been doing, grading homework?”

Ed opened his messenger bag and pulled out his binder. “Right here.”

Mr. Cook opened the binder and narrowed his eyes. He pointed to Winry’s loopier, neater writing. “This isn’t your handwriting.”

“No. I had a friend of mine help grade, I have issues with writing; my hand cramps up, and --”

“That’s no excuse. I expect things to be done by hand,  _ your _ hand.” He flipped through the pages. Winry had only done a few of them, while he had been taking a quick break and stretching his hand out. “Because there are so few of them, I’ll let it pass. But just this once, Mr. Elric. Am I understood?”

“Yes. It won’t happen again.”  _ Just one more week, just one more week. _

What was he thinking? He had been looking forward to student teaching almost his whole life, and now that he was actually doing it, he was ready to be done? What had the world come to?

Mr. Cook turned to one of the many notebooks on his desk. He was required to have a computer to input the grades -- another thing he had passed off to Ed -- but if that wasn’t necessary, Ed was positive the old man would be entirely on paper.

The rest of the lunch period passed in much of the same manner. Ed was ready and eager to start teaching again. Unfortunately, the two remaining classes were taking a test, and the open hour was full of grading those tests. And because Mr. Cook demanded to see his lesson plans for the next week on Fridays, it meant he didn’t leave the school until almost five-thirty. 

That was maybe the one good thing about having Harold Cook as a mentor: Ed now knew how to write out, and plan, lessons extremely well.

Al was waiting in the staff parking lot when Ed got out, leaning against a car. “Where’d you get a car?” he yelled, not close enough to his brother to speak normally.

“None of your business, brother,” said Al when Ed got closer. “Anyway, Izumi and Sig wanted me to take you to one of those fancy-schmancy restaurants in town.”

Ed groaned. “Please tell me you’re not.”

Al grinned. “Nope! Get in, I want it to be a surprise.”

Ed did as he was told, him and Al sitting down almost at the exact same time. “Okay, but if you’re taking me to the same place Winry is --”

“Winry’s taking you out?”

“Tomorrow, yeah.”

“Oh, that’s nice of her. No, I checked with her first.”

Ed glanced over at his brother and the mischievous grin on Al’s face. “You suck.”

“I know, brother.”

Al drove out of the parking lot and around Central, clearly trying to throw Ed off.

“It’s not going to work,” said Ed. “My memory is impeccable and I don’t even own a car.”

“But you will, with all of the fancy teacher money you’re getting.”

Ed snorted. “You think I’m getting paid for this?”

“You’ve got me there. Oh, I was looking at apartments for once you graduate, here are the ones I was thinking of.”

Al gave his phone to Ed, still keeping his eyes on the road. “You’re still wanting to live off campus?”

“And miss the chance to live with my brother? Of course I am. Besides, those dorms have both mice and termites.”

Ed winced. “That makes me even more glad I went to a state-funded university.”

Al shrugged. “That’s what I get for wanting to be a doctor, I guess.” He drove into a parking garage, and up to the roof. “That’s one good thing about you working late: free parking!”

“Yay,” Ed drawled out. 

They both got out of the car, Al insisting that Ed leave his bag in. They walked down the stairs, across some busy streets, until turning down some alleyways. “Here we are,” said Al, gesturing to a small shop about a mile from where they parked the car. “It’s called Tales Untold.”

Ed glanced at Al out of the corner of his eye. “How’d you find out about this place? It’s not exactly on the beaten track.”

“Same person I borrowed the car from.” He held the door open. “After you.”

Ed walked into the shop and immediately froze. If heaven was real, this would be it.

Books were everywhere. Lining the walls, piled from floor to ceiling, and some of the bookshelves were tilted because of the sheer amount of books on them. Wall sconces, made to look like oil lamps, lined the walls, and natural light filtered in from the other end of the store. Ed turned around, a look of wonderment across his face. Al grinned. 

“Happy birthday,” said his little brother. “Get whatever you want, it’s all on me.”

“Are you…?”

“Sig and Izumi gave me a bunch of cash at All Souls, with strict orders to use it for your birthday. I was supposed to take you to a restaurant and make the wait staff sing ‘happy birthday’ to you, but I figured you’d like this instead.”

Ed wrapped his brother in the biggest hug he could manage, his words unable to escape. Al hugged him back.

Eventually, Ed let go and started wandering around the shop. He ran his fingers against the spines of the books, letting himself exist in a single moment in time. He loved books, he loved bookshops. The books ranged from brand new to falling apart, and he carefully stopped at each book that caught his eye, gingerly opening it and reading a little snippet. At times he had to dance around the piles of books on the floor, other times he sat himself right down, surrounded by several piles at once. Al followed him around, also looking at the books, but mostly there to hold the plethora of books that Ed pulled out. 

“Look at this one,” he said, pointing to a small, leather-bound book. “Poems. Do you think Izumi would like it?”

Al peered over his shoulder. “I can’t exactly pull it out…” he said, nodding with his head to the dozen or so books he was holding.

Ed pulled the book out and flipped through it.  _ “‘One Hundred Famous Poems,’” _ he read. He opened it to the front cover. “Look at this,” he said, showing it to Al. It was a note, glued to the front cover, thanking the previous owner of the book for something. “It’s dated July of 1964.”

“Oh wow,” Al breathed. “Yeah, Izumi would love that.”

Ed added it to the pile. 

“Just out of curiosity, are you still writing poetry?” Al asked.

“A little,” said Ed. “It’s not the best, but I enjoy it.” He thought for a moment. “The last poem I wrote was… last week, actually.”

“How many have you written this year?”

“Only two.”

“What about last year?”

Ed blew a puff of air out of his cheeks. “Six? Maybe five, I’m not sure. I write it, then I completely forget about it.”

“Think you’re going to show anyone?”

Ed snorted. “Hell no. It’s a hobby, but not one that I’d like to broadcast to the world.”

“Fair.”

Ed stopped, looking at the books that Al carried. He picked one out from the middle of the stack. He held it up. “Do you think Winry would like this?”

Al pursed his lips. “I honestly have no idea. Have you read it?”

Ed looked at the cover of the book.  _ Stardust _ . “No,” he admitted, turning it over and reading the back cover. It was almost brand-new, its purple paperback cover like velvet in his hands. “I think she will,” he said. “Maybe I’ll ask her to let me borrow it sometime.”

“Brother. It’s your book.”

“Yeah, but if I give it to Winry it’s not mine anymore, is it?”

Al rolled his eyes. “So you’re giving away books. What else is new?”

Ed grinned. “Maybe I’ll actually read them this time.”

“Hey, if we find two copies of the same book we can do a reading race. Like we used to do when we were kids?”

“Oh, yeah.  _ Those _ I beat you in.”

Al grinned. “I don’t know about that now, you are talking to a pre-med student here.”

“And I’m graduating in May. I’m ninety-nine percent sure I’ll kick your ass.”

“And what about that one percent?”

“Rule one of statistics: never admit to one-hundred percent. There’s always that one person that makes a fit because they’re not it.”

“True, that,” said Al. 

They wandered around the bookshop, Ed adding more and more books to the pile that Al was holding. 

This was absolute bliss. Him and Al, together, browzing books like they used to. It had been too long since Ed had taken the time to properly wander around a bookshop, or even a library. The library on campus had too much pressure to take time to wander the stacks, and he didn’t like the idea of borrowing Ling’s car just to go to an old bookshop. So this was perfect. It had the perfect atmosphere, one that sucked him in. The shop’s name was true to form: Tales Untold. There were hundreds, if not thousands, of books packed into this tiny shop, and if it wasn’t for the slowly disappearing natural light, time would have stopped.

Small specks of dust hung in the air as the two brothers wound their way around every pile and bookshelf, but Ed knew this was just the surface. With a place like this, he’d have to come by again and again to truly see what secret treasures it offered. 

“There,” he said, putting a book on Al’s pile. “That should do it.” The pile that Al held had at least twenty books.

“It’s a good thing this is a secondhand bookstore,” Al grumbled as he plopped the books onto the front table. The employee looked at the pile of books with a raised eyebrow. “Did you find everything okay?” she asked.

“Yes we did,” Ed said, “and I will definitely be back.”

She started typing the books in. “That’s good to hear.”

“How long has this shop been here?”

“Since the first Ishvalan War. The woman who founded this place was a veteran, so she picked this spot out and grew a bookshop out of it.”

“Does every employee have to know that story?” asked Al.

The woman nodded. “Pretty much. The few people that stop by, and who aren’t regulars, always ask.”

Ed looked around the bookstore, a swell of affection for this little shop in his chest. “Yeah, I’ll definitely be back.”

“That’s good to hear,” she said. “Two copies of  _ Devil in the White City _ , nice.”

“Yeah, we’re going to see who can read it faster,” said Al.

The woman nodded. “It’s my mom’s favorite book, so it’s a good one. Do you know what it’s about?”

“Not really,” said Ed. “But we’re reading it anyway, so leave it as a surprise.”

“Will do. Do you need a bag for these?”

“Yes, please,” said Al.

The woman told him the price, Al paid for it, and soon the two of them were out on the main roads of Central. Cars still whizzed past them, even though it was well past dark. Ed pulled his coat tighter around him. “I really hate February,” he muttered, the wind blowing against them.

“Can’t blame you there,” said Al. “Definitely the worst month of the year.”

Ed glanced over at his brother, who was grinning. “Oh, come on,” he said. “I can hate my birthday month. That’s allowed, right?”

“Apparently not, if you’re doing it.”

They made their way back to the parking garage, taking the elevator this time because of Ed’s throbbing stump. “Another reason to hate February,” he said as they waited for the elevator. “My stump hurts almost all the time.”

“That sucks,” said Al.

The elevator arrived, taking them up to the roof. They dropped the bags of books off in the backseat and got in. Al started the car, and Ed glanced at the clock, cursing. It was well after nine o’clock.

“What is it?” asked Al.

“I completely forgot to head over to Winry’s,” he said, pulling out his phone. “Or at least text her that I wouldn’t be going over today.”

“Do you seriously go over to her apartment every single day?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Al drove out of the parking garage. “I wouldn’t worry about it,” he said.

Ed was halfway done composing a text to her. “Why not?” he asked.

“You’re seeing her tomorrow, right? All day, in fact?”

“Well, it’s kind of a thing we do. See each other after work, or school, and chill. Sometimes we get food, but mostly I do homework-related things while she sits on the couch. It’s not much, but it’s our thing. And I’ve gone and screwed it up.”

“You’re being an idiot.”

Ed looked over at his brother. “What did you say?”

“I said you’re being an idiot. Listen. Winry’ll understand you missing one day in the grand scheme of things, and she knows it’s your birthday and you’re with me. So you’re being an idiot for not trusting her and that she’ll understand.”

“Whatever,” Ed mumbled, finishing and sending the text. Within moments, he got a response from Winry.

_ Don’t worry about it _ , it read.  _ I get it, and I’m really tired rn (and should have gone to sleep a long time ago… whoops) and we’ll see each other tomorrow. Which I’m really excited for!!! _

A few moments later she sent him another text.  _ Ed, don’t worry about it, because I know you are. I’m perfectly fine, you got to spend some time with Al, all is good -- don’t beat yourself up over anything. Don’t. I know you too well, Edward elric. :D _

Ed smiled softly. Winry was amazing in every way he could imagine, and how well she knew him and exactly what he was thinking was another testament to just how phenomenal she was.

“Winry say something?” Al asked.

Ed looked over at his brother. “Why do you ask?”

“You’re grinning like a fool.”

“I am not!”

“Are too.”

“Am not!”

“Let’s stop it right there before it gets annoying. Besides, it was either Winry or lame chemistry jokes.”

“Watch it, Alphonse.”

Al just grinned. “Anyway, I hope you had a happy birthday.”

“You’re changing the subject.”

“So what if I am? I’d kind of be a lousy brother if I didn’t ask how your birthday was.”

Ed grumbled. “Yeah, whatever. It wasn’t terrible, if that’s what you were going for. But I still don’t see the point of celebrating one more rotation around the sun.”

“Please tell me you didn’t say that to Winry.”

“Of course I did.”

Al groaned. “You’re hopeless.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“It means people want to make your sun-rotation-day kind of special and different from every day of the year. That’s all. Honestly, how can my own brother not like birthdays?”

“I’m not a fan of holidays, either. They’re just not my thing.”

“Except you really liked All Souls Feast this year for some reason.”

“Watch it, Al.”

“I didn’t say anything. It’s you that’s pulling things out of context.”

“I’m reading between the lines. There’s a difference.”

“And what are you reading between those lines?”

“I don’t want to continue this conversation.”

“Ed. Come on. Tell me, what are you pulling out of what I’m saying.”

“You’re on real thin ice, Al.”

“Fine, I’ll drop it. For now,” Al said with a pointed glance over at Ed. He was still driving, after all. “Let me remind you, that as your little brother, it is my prerogative to tease and poke fun and egg you on in any way, shape, or form I deem fit. So while I’m dropping it  _ for now _ does not mean I’m forgetting it. Brother.”

Ed looked out the window. “You suck.”

“Thank you.”

The rest of the ride back to Ed’s dorm passed in silence. Not an awkward silence, but the kind that two people share when they’ve literally shared their entire lives together. 

Ed gulped.  _ Not entire lives _ , he thought. There was still the issue about his feelings for Winry. He had processed them a little over the past couple of months, but it had led almost him nowhere. As far as he knew, he was still aromantic and asexual, but Winry was the one single exception to the rule. He would occasionally run scenarios through his head, not with Winry, but imaginary, faceless people. It ended up the same way it had back when he was first questioning: with a shake of his head, a grimace on his face, a shudder running through his body. Sure, he could hold hands and be close to people emotionally and physically, but only if there was a firm boundary between them either labeled  _ friends _ or  _ family. _

Winry was… none of that. She blurred all lines, scuffed up all boundaries he had previously put up. She was his friend, but sometimes she felt more like family, or even like someone he had known since before time began and would know long after time stopped. She wasn’t just a friend or just a family member. She was Winry.

A thought he had had a thousand times before surfaced again: what if he didn’t have romantic feelings for her? It had gotten to the point where he might never know what exactly it was, but he did know one thing: if he ever ran scenarios through his head with him and Winry -- just them holding hands, raising faceless children, the occasional kiss, his usual scenarios -- he didn’t shudder, he didn’t grimace, he didn’t shake his head. In his head at least, he didn’t mind doing things like that with Winry, and if something happened  _ outside _ of his head, he wouldn’t mind because it was Winry. 

“Here we are,” said Al. “Do you need help carrying the books up?”

Ed started. He had been so lost in thought he hadn’t noticed Al pulling up to his dorm. “No thanks, I should be fine. I need to sleep anyway, it’s been a long week.”

Al turned off the car anyway. “Let me at least give you a hug.”

Ed grinned. “That’d be great.”

The two of them got out of the car, exchanging a firm and loving hug. Ed held onto his younger, but taller, brother

“See you around, brother,” said Al once they exited the hug.

“See you around, Al,” Ed responded, taking the bags of books out of the backseat. 

“Let me know how tomorrow with Winry goes.”

Ed rolled his eyes. “Sure. Whatever.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.”

With a wave, Al got into the car and drove away. Ed sighed, missing his brother even though they only lived a few miles away, and walked up to his dorm. He walked through his room, successfully past the sleeping form of Ling, and to the living room. He flicked the light on and put the bags of books down. He dug through them until he pulled out  _ Stardust _ . If he was going to give it to Winry, he wanted to make sure it was a good book first. That, and he genuinely wanted to read it.

He quickly took his prosthetic leg off and leaned back against the armrest of the couch, flipping the book open and started reading. 

_ There was once a young man who wished to gain his Heart’s Desire…  _


	2. the warmth of your eyes swept me into your arms

Ed rubbed his eyes for the millionth time. He hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep, staying up the entire night to read the book. He had nearly stopped around five in the morning, but by then he was at a really good part and pushed on. To be fair, the last third of the book was a complete blur, but he was confident that Winry would like it.

As if she knew he was thinking about her, she called him. He answered his phone and put it on speaker as he brushed his teeth. “He’o?” he said with his toothbrush in his mouth, scrubbing away the three cups of coffee he had already had. 

_ “Where’s the nearest bus stop by your dorm?” _ she asked.

Ed thought for a moment. “Tha’d be acro’ the street,” he said. 

_ “Did I catch you at a bad time?” _

“Nah,” said Ed, spitting out a mixture of toothpaste and spit. “I was just brushing my teeth.”

_ “Oh. Okay, well I’m picking you up via bus, so do you think you can be there in about ten minutes or so? Oh, and it’s route four.” _

“Route four. Got it. See you then.”

_ “See you then, Ed.” _

“Bye.”

_ “Bye.” _

She hung up the phone, and he finished brushing his teeth. The bags under his eyes were even more pronounced, but that’s what all-nighters do. He quickly splashed some cold water on his face to try and wake him up a little more (the coffee hadn’t quite kicked in yet) before pulling his hair back into a braid and drying his face off. 

A day with Winry. He was determined that, no matter what, he would have fun and not groan if she got him a cake or something. Cake wasn’t even that good, he much preferred pie. 

He put his coat on, waving goodbye to Ling as he grabbed his wallet along with  _ Stardust _ , putting both into his pocket, and stepped out into the bitter February air. He pulled his hat on, the kind that had twin braids hanging down the sides. Al said it looked stupid, he said it looked cool as hell. That, and it kept his ears warm. 

Being careful not to slip on ice, he made his way across the street and stood at the bus stop, his hands firmly in his coat pocket as the wind tore right through him. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, trying to keep warm, but it was no use. The wind was harsh and cruel, almost taking his nose off as it rushed by him. Two busses stopped for him, but each time he shook his head, none of them being the route Winry was on. 

Almost twenty minutes later, the bus for route four stopped and he got on. It was nearly full, but he immediately spotted Winry’s white hat with the white pom-pom as she waved him to the back of the bus. She scooted over to let him sit down.

“Hey,” she said, “Sorry, there was a really long light back there.”

Ed bounced his amputated leg, trying to get blood flow back to it. “It’s all good,” he said. 

“Here,” said Winry, unzipping her jacket and handing him a heating pad. “I heated it up before I left, and it’s still warm. I did cold-weather research for amputees, so I’ve got you covered.”

Ed put it on his leg, sighing in relief. His stump always throbbed in cold weather, but this pad did the trick. “You’re a godsend, Winry,” he said. “Does that mean we’re spending a fair amount of time outside?”

She smirked. “We’ll see,” she said. 

“Oh, I almost forgot.” Ed pulled the purple paperback book out of his inside coat pocket. “This is for you.”

Winry took it, her face lighting up. “This is one of my favorite books!”

Ed blinked. “You’ve read it?”

“In high school, yeah. You know those books that you read once but can never, ever find again?”

Ed nodded. “All too often.”

Winry held up the book. “This was that book for me. I fell in love with it, but it was a library book, and I never managed to find it again, even after years of Googling.”

“I’m glad I could help. I actually stayed up all night reading it last night, so if I pass out on you, I’m sorry.”

Winry grinned. “Don’t pass out on me just yet, okay? I really want to get to this one thing, and I kind of what you to be awake for at least part of it.”

“What is it?”

Winry grinned. “I’m not telling.” She looked up at the front of the bus, and reached up for the cord, alerting the bus driver to stop at the next bus stop. Ed gave the heating pad back to Winry, but she shoved it back at him so he put it in his unoccupied pocket. 

Ed leaned over Winry to peer outside the window. “The shopping district?”

“There’s a really good cafe nearby, my parents took me to it when they helped me move in this past year.”

Ed reached over to Winry’s hand and squeezed it. It didn’t feel the same with both of them wearing gloves, but he knew that she needed some sort of reassurance. While the news of her parents’ passing wasn’t new, and as far as he knew she had processed it to the best of her ability, he knew from experience that the wound opened itself up at odd moments. 

Winry looked over at Ed, smiling, her expression saying what she wasn’t.  _ Thank you. _

The bus pulled to a stop. Winry and Ed got off, still holding hands. They waited for the bus to pass before crossing the street. They walked inside and right into the end of a long line. At the same time, they pulled off their hats and gloves and held hands as soon as they could.

The shop itself was cozy, with a fake fireplace in the center and a bakery display. Nearly all of the tables were full, and the baristas were shouting out orders above the soft jazz that was playing, so the atmosphere wasn’t as soft and serene as much as the decor made it look. 

Almost as an instinct, Ed and Winry stepped closer together, their fingers intertwined. Winry sighed. “Yeah, this place gets busy.”

Ed hummed. “I don’t mind all that much.” He looked down at Winry. She closed her eyes, smiling, and leaned her head against his shoulder. 

“We haven’t done something like this in a long time.”

Ed nodded. It had been too long since they had gone out, just the two of them, being fully able to give the other person their full attention. Ed had to admit, if today’s day with Winry was only because of his birthday, there must be something to celebrating milestones. But only like this. 

The line inched forward. Ed had to nudge Winry along a little bit, but she kept her head on his shoulder. “You’re at the perfect height for this,” she said, her eyes still closed. “I can get a good angle while avoiding the bony parts.”

Ed grinned. “Finally.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I didn’t hit my growth spurt until I was seventeen, and I’m not done growing.”

Winry looked up at him, befuddled. “How  _ short _ were you?”

Ed narrowed his eyes. That was still a little bit of a sore spot. “Sixty-four inches at sixteen.”

Winry rolled her eyes. “Five-four. You were five-four.” She giggled, looking at the top of his head. “That’s an impressive growth spurt.”

Ed pursed his lips. “Yeah, well, Al’s still taller than me, so it’s not even a real growth spurt.”

“Are you even six feet tall?”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“Nothing, I’m just curious.”

“Well, how tall are you?”

Winry pulled out her other hand and started counting on her fingers. “Sixty-five inches,” she said with a smile.

The line moved forward again.

“That’s good for you,” said Ed, his eyes narrowed.

Winry tugged on his hand, the one that she held. “Come on, tell me. How tall are you?”

Ed mumbled a number under his breath. 

“Didn’t quite catch that.”

“Five-eleven,” Ed muttered, loud enough for only Winry to hear.

Winry nudged him in the shoulder. “Like I said: perfect height for hugs, snuggles, and resting my head on your shoulder.”

Ed sniffed and looked up at the menu, his face heating up a little bit. Could she be any more amazing?

“Ooo, what are you planning on getting?” asked Winry.

“I dunno, I just started looking.”

Winy hummed, her eyes scanning the menu on the wall. Ed couldn’t help but look down at her and take in her sapphire blue eyes, as deep as the ocean. “I’m thinking of hot chocolate with a raspberry-filled long John. What about you?”

“Oh, I, uh, haven’t decided yet.”

The line moved forward again. Ed glanced at their intertwined hands and, with his breath shallow and his brain screaming at him to stop, moved his thumb along hers. Winry rested her head on his shoulder again. 

Slowly, the line inched forward. Ed could barely focus on the menu, all he could really think about was Winry’s head on his shoulder, her hand in his, and the smell of her apple-and-vanilla hair mixed with that of a new car.

Not needing any more caffeine, he settled on a hot chocolate as well, along with a bear claw. When it was their turn, Ed told Winry his order and let her take care of everything. Much like Al, she insisted on paying for everything, which he didn’t argue. He grabbed their pastries, both of them on the same plate; Winry’s long John getting powdered sugar everywhere. 

They managed to find a spot in a far corner, right next to the back window where they had a wonderful view of the dumpsters. Ed reluctantly let go of Winry’s hand as they sat down, but as soon as they did their drinks were called and Winry rushed off to get them. He watched her go, a deep feeling settling in his chest. He didn’t know what it was, exactly, but it got deeper when she came back with their drinks in hand and a smile on her face. He smiled when he saw her.

She was always smiling, and she managed to pull smiles out of him. That was just one of the many amazing things about her.

“Here you go,” she said, sitting down and putting the mug with his hot chocolate in front of him. “I asked for whipped cream, if that’s okay with you. I know you’re not the biggest dairy fan.” She took her coat off and hung on the back of the chair. Ed’s coat lay in a pile between him and the wall.

“Nah, whipped cream is great,” he said, purposefully dipping his nose into the pile on top of his drink. “See? You can’t do this with milk.”

Winry giggled and wiped a little bit on her own nose. “What an influencer,” she said. “You could probably get a whipped cream company to back you if you keep doing stuff like that.”

Ed shrugged. “I prefer spur-of-the-moment whipped cream fun. Getting paid would take all the fun out of it.”

Winry reached for her long John. “Let’s hope I actually get filling this time,” she said. “Most places, when I ask for filled donuts, don’t deliver. It’s sad.”

Ed wrinkled his nose. “Filled donuts just make them too soggy and messy.”

Winry stuck her tongue out at him. “Shows what you know.” She took a giant bite, the jelly pouring out of the donut and around her fingers, the powdered sugar coating her fingers and lips. “See? I’ve eaten eggs that were messier.”

Ed rolled his eyes and drank some of his hot chocolate. “So. What’s the plan for today?” Winry shook her head. “Oh, come on. You can’t leave me completely blind. Al did the exact same thing yesterday.”

Winry licked the powdered sugar from her fingers. “Your point?”

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I know.”

“So tell me what we’re doing.”

Winry shook her head again. “I’m not telling you, and I swear that you’ll like it. Unfortunately, it’s later in the day and I wanted to spend all of today with you.”

“Al could have just as easily booked today.”

“Then I would have taken you out tomorrow.” She took a sip of her hot chocolate. “It’s not about your birthday, though that did provide a nice excuse for spending all day with you outside of our apartments or campus. Believe it or not, I really like spending time with you; and if not now, I’d have found some excuse some other time to be with you.”

Ed picked an almond slice out of his bear claw and held it between his fingers. “Okay,” he said. “I trust you. I’ll follow you wherever you want to take me.” He popped the almond slice into his mouth. 

Winry looked at him softly. “Thank you, Ed,” she said. 

“For what?”

She shook her head ever so slightly, a smile playing at her mouth. She took another bite of her donut. Ed drank some of his hot chocolate, the mug hiding his soft smile. 

They continued talking, long after the morning rush ended and their drinks and pastries were gone. Ed had to go to the bathroom at several points, and each time he came back Winry was looking at  _ Stardust _ . Not reading it, but flipping the book over in her hands and paging through with her thumb. 

They left at the weird time before the lunch rush when the cafe was nearly silent, and besides the employees, they were the only ones there. Pulling on coats, gloves, hats, and keeping the slowly-cooling heating pad in his pocket, they crossed the street to the bus stop, got on, and rode it to a different part of town. There, they walked around, poking into little shops before getting on a different bus and getting off at a different spot. When Ed’s stump got too cold, they got on the bus and rode back to Winry’s apartment, where they ate some food, watched a couple episodes of  _ Emberring _ , and reheated the heating pad. Around three in the afternoon, Winry pulled him to his feet. 

“How many winter layers do you have at your apartment?” she asked.

Ed narrowed his eyes. “What do you mean?”

“Like sweaters, thermals, snow pants, snow boots, blankets… Do you have any of those?”

Ed scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah, I have those. Not that many blankets. Why do you ask?”

Winry’s eyes sparkled. “We’re going night stargazing.”

“It’s the middle of winter.”

“I know, this is the best time to do it. The sky is clear, there’s plenty of night time, and if we bundle up it shouldn’t be an issue. And I borrowed a tarp from one of my coworkers so we won’t even get the blankets wet.”

Ed shook his head, smiling. “I’d have never guessed that that’s what you had planned.”

Winry grinned. “I am a woman of many secrets.”

“Clearly.”

Winry disappeared into her room, and came out holding a giant bag with both of her hands. Ed reached over and took one of the handles, the bag hanging in between them. “How are we going to get all of this stuff there?”

“The bus.”

“Busses stop running at five on weekends, and the late bus stops at nine.”

Winry’s face scrunched together. “Right. I’m at a loss there.”

Still holding onto the bag, Ed pulled out his phone and texted Ling about borrowing his car. “One of us should really consider getting a car,” he grumbled when Ling texted him back saying his car was currently in use.

Winry peered over and at his phone. “Yeah, that’s the one thing I forgot. And there’s supposed to be a meteor shower tonight.” She groaned. “Just my luck.”

“Well, do we have to go somewhere super far away?”

“Kinda, yeah. There was a spot just outside of the city that I scoped out. It’s mainly getting away from light so we can actually see the stars.”

They put the bag on the ground. “Good point,” said Ed.

Winry fell back into an armchair. “I really wanted today to be special for you,” she said. 

Ed sat on the coffee table that was next to her. “Stop beating yourself up,” he said. “There’s nothing you need to worry about. I honestly don’t care what I do, as long as I do it with you.”

Winry sniffled and wiped at her eyes with her sleeve. “Thanks,” she said. 

“So let’s put stargazing on hold until your birthday, okay?”

“I thought you didn’t like birthdays.”

“I don’t, but you do. More so than me, anyway.”

“Anyone likes birthdays more than you.”

“You’re not lying.”

She sat up a little in the armchair, swinging her legs over one of the armrests and leaning against the other one. “Well then, what do you want to do?”

Ed gestured around. “This. What we’ve been doing for the past couple of months.”

“I think I can do that,” she said with a smile.

Ed reached over to the bag and pulled out a fluffy blanket. Before Winry could protest or do anything, he wrapped it completely around her and picked her up in a single motion. She squealed, and Ed walked around the coffee table and collapsed onto the couch, the air almost knocking out of him as Winry’s weight settled on him. He spat some hair out of his mouth.

“Really?” she asked. Reaching out with her foot she pulled the coffee table closer and somehow moved so the blanket was around them both and her arms were securely around him. He hung one arm over her shoulders and turned into her a little bit more. 

“I’d say this is better than stargazing,” he murmured.

“What was that?”

He shook his head. “Never mind.”

Winry rested her head against his chest. “Crap.”

“What?”

“There’s pie in the fridge. But I’m too comfy to move.”

Ed chuckled. “Eh, we can grab it later.”

“Yeah okay.”

“Winry?”

“Yeah?”

“I still don’t like birthdays.”

Winry sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Updates for this series are going to slow down a bit; I have a new semester starting up within a week, and after writing in this universe for a solid month, I’m a little burned out. Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten about this, my brain just needs a bit of a break.
> 
> Leave a comment/kudos if you liked it, and see you in the next installment!!

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to leave a comment/kudos, and happy reading!!


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